The End of the Beginning
by Hay389
Summary: He imagined his life ending many different ways, but never in space and alone. This journey was finally at the end, exactly like he told Pepper in the message she would hopefully one day receive. As the darkness invaded him, Tony accepted he was going to die. No one was coming to rescue him.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is something quick I did, because after seeing the Endgame trailer when it first came out and all the rumors combined I needed to write something. Honestly I planned to make this into a multi-chapter fic, so let me know if you guys want more. If not, this is just a stand alone. Also sorry for grammar mistakes, I try my best. I hope you guys enjoy. Tell me what you thought!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Marvel characters used in this story. (Obviously lol, but got to warn people.)

* * *

As Tony turned of his helmet, cradling the only working device left of his now demolished iron suit with his hand, he knew that message would never get to earth; to the person who needed to hear it the most. He can still hear her voice from the phone call as he blasted his way up to the spaceship, losing connection the higher he went. "Tony get back here now." The worry and panic so evident, it made him hurt.

He was just supposed to save the wizard, bring the kid—who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place—back down, and get the time stone the hell out of dodge. Never was it in the plan to get stranded on Thanos' home planet. When he said they needed to bring the fight to him, it meant kicking his ass like they did with Ultron and going back to planning his wedding with Pepper.

They almost had him too, but that idiot lord star or Pete—whatever the hell his name was—had to go and mess the system up. They were so close to pulling the gauntlet off Thanos' hand, but he had to pick that moment to punch him. The mourning of one life cost billions of others to lose theirs. He hadn't considered that, and now he, Dr. Strange, and Peter are all gone, leaving the worst prison for himself, loneliness.

Tony picked up the closest thing next to him—a metal pipe, probably once a part of a beautiful building—and threw it as far as it would go, screaming until he was cut off with a violent cough, gasping for air through the desert that was his mouth. His food supplies had run out five days ago, water following the exit a day after. At the end of today, his oxygen would run out as well.

There was no way a rescue would be coming for him, they didn't even know where to start. Why would anyone rescue him anyway? They were probably glad to get rid of his "selfishness", as many people claimed. All he ever did was try to help people, just like his father had. That was the purpose of Stark Industries. Tony just ran into the problem that while he helped people, he would tear a hole in the patch of his good deeds.

Standing on his wobbly feet, Tony limped over to his ship, the one he managed to salvage from the bigger one he crashed not too long ago. It took time and a lot of searching later to be able to get the device to run. It had less than a days worth of air left, but if he puts himself in hyper sleep he can stretch it out by a couple of hours.

Sweeping the area with his eyes Tony was saddened by the fact destruction would be the last thing he saw, so he tilted his head up towards the sky, the only beautiful thing left on this planet. Sitting in the seat, he strapped himself in, his helmet laid by his feet, and took off. As he set into hypersleep, a tear rolled down his cheek. He imagined his life ending many different ways, but never in space and alone. This journey was finally at the end, exactly like he told Pepper in the message she would hopefully one day receive. As the darkness invaded him, Tony accepted he was going to die.

No one was coming to rescue him.

* * *

FIVE YEARS LATER...

Blocks away from 16 Handles—a corny ice-cream shop using a play on word from the iconic 80's movie 16 Candles—a little girl's laughter can be heard streets away from the Penn South playground, which in some way was a scary thought.

New York was usually filled with the sounds of traffic, horns blaring at the car in front of them, or people chatting while walking to the nearest dining establishment. Nowadays, New York was so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

After Thanos wiped out half the population, some citizens who lived anywhere in New York, Manhattan, didn't want to stick around with such a bad history. Most though couldn't bear the idea of living in the last place they saw their family members, invaded with all the good memories and never given the opportunity to create new ones. A lot of stores remain untouched, others broken into. A lot caught by police—just cause Thanos wiped out half the population didn't mean rules would change.

Focusing back on the little girl, her brunette pigtails hang loosely above her head as she hangs upside down on the monkey bars, her blue eyes lighting up in delight. "Morgan get down from there before you fall," her mother warned. She stayed, knowing the tone wasn't serious enough to get her into trouble.

The women nudged her husband's arm. "Go get her down." He sighed giving her a look, as if saying come on, smirking a bit to let her know he was joking. "You know Pepper, you ought to let the kid live a little. She'll waste her energy out up there, then later she'll want to take a nap."

"Well Tony, I don't really feel like taking our 5 year old to a hospital for a broken bone."

"I don't wanna take our 5 year old to a hospital for a broken bone," he copied her, mumbling under his breath. "What did you say?" Pepper questioned, already knowing her husband was the true 5 year old in this situation. "Nothing, I swear." She smiled at him. "Sure."

"Come here," Tony said, carefully lifting his daughter off the monkey bars and placing her on the ground. "Why don't you go finish your ice-cream moms been holding." Morgan gave him a pout. "But I wanna play more." Tony couldn't help himself. "Ok, five more minutes and we leave." The little girl ran off, climbing up a slide, and coming back down. "She has you wrapped around her finger." Tony smiled at that. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, especially in this day and age.

It was coming close to six years since Thanos wiped out half the population, and Tony thanks god everyday that Pepper hadn't been one of the unfortunate ones to be swept off as if they never existed. Honestly he can't even believe that he is standing here next to her, alive. He came so close to death, like many times before, but this was different; he was scared. Scared of dying alone, scared that Pepper wouldn't get closure, and now that he's back he is sure he would have been scared of never getting to meet his child if he knew Pepper had been pregnant at the time.

So yeah, it felt amazing to be back holding her, his wife, and their five year old daughter. Never in a million years would Tony thought he would say this, but it was great no longer being Tony Stark, one of the richest people in the world, a genius just like his father, and a super hero—Iron Man. No, now he was just Tony Stark, husband and father. Life might not have been ideal in that moment, but what he had was enough for him.

Being dragged out of his thoughts, his phone started to ring. He flipped it open, "Stark here." Some habits don't die.

"It's Steve."

"I already told you I'm out."

"Wait, look. We found this device and we think Nick Fury was trying to locate someone on it. We've tried to get it to work, but we haven't been able to figure out what's wrong with the thing. Please, Tony. Just ten minutes."

"Nope, yeah I'm good. Thanks for the offer though."

"Stark, this could be what we need to finally stop Thanos. If you can't come out of the goodness of your heart, do it for the people who lost their lives. Do it for your daughter."

"That's a low blow there, cap." Tony sighed, Steve was not a stupid man. "Give me an hour."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hey! So I know I started this story before Endgame came out, writing the first chapter strictly off of rumors. I wasn't positive if I was going to continue this or leave it as a one-shot, but I have an idea of where I would want it to go. So I guess it is officially a chapter story, and pretty much it will be sort of an AU, but there will be things from Endgame mixed in. So I guess I'll say it now, don't read ahead if you don't want spoilers if you haven't seen Endgame; but if you haven't seen it yet, what are you doing because that movie came out MONTHS ago. Anyways, hope you enjoy. Not much is going on here, but it will be a build up. If you are confused though while reading, finish the chapter and I'll explain some stuff at the bottom. If you are still confused after that, feel free to PM me.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Avengers, or any characters you recognize in this story.

* * *

Peter Quill opened his eyes, both burning from the lack of sleep he must have gotten; a sleep so short, he doesn't remember falling into it. He groaned sitting up in bed, he definitely has a hangover, probably explaining why he couldn't remember the last thing he did before waking.

Looking around the room, Peter froze not at all recognizing where he was, his first thought being, _I don't even own a house, let alone a bedroom. _He carefully untucked himself from the covers, his feet touching the cool wooden floor. Yet the more he stared around the room, taking in the furniture, items, and colors, it all started coming back to him.

This was his house, and he owned everything within a two mile radius.

_I really have to stop drinking so much, _Peter thought, knowing it was an empty statement. By tonight he would probably be holding another beer in his hands, celebrating the fact he managed to sign another artist to his company, Star-Lord Records. Speaking of that, he glanced at his clock hanging on his wall, 9:56 am, he was late for work; although could you really be late if you owned the entire building?

Adjusting his tie, he stepped through the front door of the tall structure, ready to start the day. "Good morning Mr. Quill, sleeping in later I see." Peter smiled, he knew what Jim—his security guard—meant. His parties were always crazy, but his employees worked hard and deserved them. "Morning Jim," Peter responded, chuckling.

Someone was already waiting in his office for him, which he didn't like leaving people unintended in his personal space. It wasn't that he didn't trust his employees, after all he hired them for a reason, but outsiders could be a problem from time to time—especially if it was a reporter.

This person was special though, and he smiled when he saw her sitting at his desk holding a picture frame he kept on the outer corner, cocidedently of them from years ago. "Hey mom, what are you doing here?" She looked up, giving him her usual warm smile. She had always been a happy person. "We were supposed to meet for breakfast, but when you didn't show up, I figured you were busy so I brought you something else instead." She motioned towards the cup and bag sitting on his desk. He felt like a total jackass forgetting about his mother, especially guilty because he didn't even remember making plans with her. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot."

"That's alright, I know you have a lot of work that needs to be done around here."

"That's not a good excuse." Maybe if he hadn't been partying until the early morning, he would have been able to make good on his word. She held out her hand, and he gladly took it; something that had settled down between them in his childhood, a time he can remember as if it were yesterday.

How could he forget though, his mother nearly lost her life to cancer. It was something no kid should see. He was old enough to know that whatever she had wasn't good, but not old enough to fully understand why there was a high chance she could leave him. His family had prepared for it, her death, but he was never ready to accept she was going to leave him all alone, that had been his biggest fear when she became ill. He can remember sitting in the waiting room chair, listening to his mother's favorite songs on his cassette player. His great uncle told him it was time, but he didn't want to say goodbye.

When he walked into that hospital room, all eyes were drifting from mother to son. His mother smiled when she saw him, even as death verged closer and closer. He looked at her, a shell of a woman she once was.

"_Take my hand, Peter." _And he didn't hesitate, he grasped her hand as tight as he could, as if a pair of angels would swipe down in that very moment and carry her away without a lifeline connecting her to this planet. He held on until he couldn't anymore, until his Uncle had finally managed to pry him from the side of his mom's bed, carrying him out kicking and screaming his mom's name.

Then, as if god had heard his prayers and came down himself, his mother had gotten better, slowly, day by day; until the point where she was in remission. The doctors were left baffled, couldn't figure out why she had made a sudden recovery, but all that mattered was his mother being by his side.

A knock at the door broke the moment, Peter clearing his throat before telling the person to enter. His intern walked in, his voice hesitate. "Hi..uh...Sir. I was just wondering if—" he stopped, noticing his boss' mother. "Hi Ms. Quill." She smiled, waving at the young boy. "Oh...oh was I interrupting something? Cause I can totally come back."

"Parker your fine, what can I do for you?"

"Your 11:20 is here early, and was wondering if it would be possible to see you now."

"Give me five minutes."

"Yes Sir."

Quill got his desk ready for his appointment, before returning back to the most important thing at the moment. "How about I clear my schedule tomorrow, and you and me finally go through all the boxes in your attic. I know you've been wanting to do that for quite a while, and it seems only fair since I missed breakfast." His mother smiled at him. "That sounds lovely. And don't feel bad about today, we'll just have our breakfast tomorrow. Anyways, I should get going. Have a great day, Peter." Peter hugged his mom, escorting her to the elevators, waving her goodbye until the doors finally closed.

"Hey Parker, clear my schedule for tomorrow. I'll be taking a personal day." His intern nodded his head, and Quill made his way towards his client ready to start the day.

* * *

Peter Parker slammed shut the door to his apartment, already feeling his couple hours of work kicking in. He might have only been an intern, but his boss did not play when it came to running his business. He was always running around the building delivering messages to people, and if they weren't there, he would have to come back; it didn't matter if it was across the building or not or if the elevators were currently out of service—if only for a brief period. He was assigned to make, cancel, and reschedule appointments, on top of sorting through actual mail and emails. Sometimes he'd even have to sit there for hours on end receiving an endless amount of calls, with some not so nice people on the other end. This was all in a usual span of four hours after he got out of school, not including the weekends as he worked more hours.

Kicking his shoes off, Peter rubbed his sore, right, foot, happy Sunday was over, and he would be getting a break from working tomorrow. He didn't really mind any of the disadvantages, as his job was good pay. Probably a lot more than a high school intern should be getting, but he wasn't going to complain—especially since Mr. Quill could get someone a lot more qualified to be an assistant then him. It was paying his bills, and that was all that mattered.

Peter was quite proud of himself though, he had a rough junior year of high school. About halfway through his Aunt May passed away unexpectedly, killed by a man who thought the money in her purse was more important. He hadn't wanted to believe she was really gone, but quickly reality set in and he couldn't help but feel tremendous loss and anger towards the person who had taken the last of his family away.

The police had caught the man hiding out in an abandoned Kmart a few blocks away, the weapon still on him. He got 20 years for murder, and for some reason that verdict didn't seem as justified as Peter thought. How was it fair that his aunt got a casket in the ground, and all her murderer received was 20 years in prison? He might have been confined behind walls, but he was still breathing. He was allowed three meals a day, a place to sleep, and could even find some type of work. His Aunt May would never get to do any of that ever again. Instead she would be left engulfed in darkness and cold ground; never able to see the light of day again. Peter even silently wished it had been a life for a life, that the man would suffer and spend the rest of his days in a dark prison cell with no contact from anyone.

But his Aunt wouldn't want him wishing bad upon people and besides, Peter had always been a shy boy ever since he was little, and he knew he couldn't even hurt a fly.

Life just really sucked, first it was his parents when he was very young. His mother's sister was more than happy to take her nephew in—the woman who was there for every one of his milestones as a child; his first word, his first steps, and even his first loose tooth.

She was a very kind person; tough, gentle, fierce, creative, strong, and always happy. There was never just one word to describe her, and there never will be. Peter used to get so annoyed when she sat up waiting for him after parties—not that he ever went to many—and his club meetings that ran late. May always said she wanted to make sure he got home okay, then pull him into a hug and head off to sleep. Now he wishes when he walked through that door, she would be waiting for him in her usual spot on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table reading her most recent romantic novel.

Peter picked up the frame with a picture of the two at his 8th grade science fair, his aunt hugging him tightly from the side as he displayed his first place ribbon to the camera. She had been so proud of him that day. He rubbed the sides of the fame gently with his thumbs. "I miss you so much Aunt May." Peter placed the photo back down on the nightstand, rubbing at the few tears that rolled down his cheeks. _What a day_, Peter thought. All he needed was a good night's rest.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, first I want to say sorry for any grammar mistakes, I can't catch everything. Second, it may seem confusing because both Peters were dusted during the snap, and yes that still stands. I don't want to give a lot away, just know I am doing my own thing with the Soul Stone. Also about Aunt May, I know there are different stories being told on whether she was dusted or not. So in my story, she wasn't, and is still alive. (I haven't seen Far From Home yet, yes I am ashamed, so I don't know if it was confirmed there, but that's just how I want it to play out in my story.) Lastly, I have no clue when the next update will be. I don't have a schedule like other people, I kind of just post if I have a chapter written. I am very busy at the moment, applying to colleges, scholarships, playing Varsity Basketball, and school work, including midterms coming up in the next week and a half. I just wanted to warn everyone the next update might not be until late February. Hope you're okay with that. Please do review though on how you feel about the story so far.


End file.
